


Reconfiguration

by latecamellia (caramarie)



Series: Mirrored Lives [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Background Yunjoong, Jealousy, Love Triangles Resolved With Polyamory, M/M, Parallel Universes Being Joined Back Together, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramarie/pseuds/latecamellia
Summary: Saving the world means bringing their two parallel worlds together – and their parallel selves.This would be more straightforward if Wooyoung hadn’t been dating different people in his different lives.
Relationships: Choi San & Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung & Park Seonghwa, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Series: Mirrored Lives [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920370
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Reconfiguration

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [You (Are Not) Separate from Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26101108) (after a giant timeskip) but I think it should make sense just from the premise.

The first night after they save the world, Wooyoung runs away.

When they’d woken up in the morning, there had been two of each of them: two worlds, two Wooyoungs, two Sans, two Yeosangs. Now, there is only one of each, and Wooyoung doesn’t know who he is any more.

Is he the Wooyoung who fell in love with his childhood best friend? (Yes.) Is he the Wooyoung who fell in love with San when they first set about to save the world? (Yes.) He’s both simultaneously.

So he runs away. The seemingly straightforward question of where to spend the night is suddenly fraught, and Wooyoung can’t stand the weight of their expectation. They’ve just saved the world but it’s hard to celebrate when you’ve got ten years of overlapping memories shoved in your head all at once. 

So he’s going for a walk, he says; no, he doesn’t need company; yes, he’ll be back soon; yes, he’ll be safe, he’s not an idiot …

He walks down to the road and stops at its edge. No-one uses roads like this where they are now, far from the remnants of civilisation. There’s no reason to come here, except to look at dead things – the buildings and structures that people left behind when they disappeared from the world. The road is empty; it stretches out in silence either side of him.

Somehow, it’s more eerie now than it was before. Maybe because it’s _not_ a dead area any more. Someone could come, following the road from over the horizon. Someone could leave that way too.

Wooyoung sits on the roadside. A part of him is braced for company – for one or the other of them to follow him out here, sit down beside him and put their hand over his. And that will be it, that will decide the rest of Wooyoung’s life for him.

First come, first served – is that how love is meant to work?

It would be simpler if he could say one life was better _,_ that he’d been happier in one relationship than the other. But he can’t say that. He can’t say that he wants one of them to come find him here, and not the other. It’s both or neither. He can stand both or neither.

But he can’t stand _both_ right now, or he wouldn’t be out here.

* * *

Back inside, Yeosang sits on Seonghwa’s bed and says, ‘I shouldn’t have let him go off.’

‘It’s not like there’s anything else you could have done,’ Seonghwa says. ‘If you went, San would go too. You have to give him space.’

‘I’m good at giving him space,’ Yeosang says. ‘It’s the rest I’m not good at.’

He’s surprised at how bitter he sounds. Because he was two people as well, and one of those people was not Wooyoung’s boyfriend, was not the most important person in Wooyoung’s life. Maybe he was even adjusted to that fact. But now his calm acceptance has been thrown into disarray.

‘I don’t know why I can’t just say what I feel,’ he says. It’s easy to remember every moment he felt jealous, and kept his mouth shut. It’s harder to remember the rest of it. Especially when Wooyoung isn’t there beside him.

‘It feels too risky,’ Seonghwa says. Yeosang sits up, and Seonghwa meets his eyes briefly, before looking away again. ‘You’d rather live with what you’ve already got. But you know how Wooyoung feels, so you shouldn’t worry about it.’

‘But I know how he feels about San too.’ He knows, he knows, he knows; he cannot stop himself from knowing. ‘So what am I meant to do?’

Seonghwa flicks a glance over to him again, and Yeosang’s stomach twists. He flops back down on the bed. ‘Sorry,’ he says.

‘It’s alright,’ Seonghwa says, even though Yeosang hasn’t articulated what he’s sorry for. ‘You should talk to him. Just not tonight.’

Yeosang sighs. He rolls onto his side, so that he’s facing Seonghwa, and in another move that he should probably apologise for, says, ‘Can I stay here tonight?’

And because Seonghwa is a better person than he is, he says, ‘Of course.’

* * *

San goes to bed on his own. It feels a little bit like sulking: if Wooyoung wants to be on his own, then of course San is fine on his own too.

He should be happy. They should be celebrating. They should be sixteen whole separate people, and not eight shoddily reconstructed ones. If he’d known this was how it was going to turn out … No, that line of thought _is_ just sulking. He knows how many people, how many versions of people, were simply erased. Reintegration is a small price to pay for the stability of the world.

But it hurts anyway.

He lies there awake for at least an hour. His thoughts won’t stop coming, the weight of his two lives too heavy upon him. In the end he gets up; he goes to Wooyoung’s room.

Wooyoung, thankfully, is alone. He stirs when San comes in, but San says, ‘It’s just me,’ and Wooyoung doesn’t bother to wake up properly. He just lets San climb into bed beside him, and when San puts an arm over him, Wooyoung pulls him closer.

It’s reassuring. The familiar sound of Wooyoung’s breath, but also his easy acceptance of San’s arrival. That’s what San wants. He wants his presence to be accepted, even taken for granted. If Wooyoung can take him for granted, he’ll be very happy.

He falls asleep like that.

In the morning, Wooyoung is the one who wakes first. He doesn’t notice, right away, when San opens his eyes, and for a minute or two, San gets to just watch him. Watch the tremble of his eyelashes when he blinks, the curve of his lips when he lets out a sigh. Then Wooyoung turns onto his side to face San, and he says, ‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ San says back. And, when Wooyoung reaches out to touch his cheek, ‘What were you thinking about?’

‘I was wondering if we really saved the world, or if we just fucked everyone’s lives up.’

San screws his face up. ‘Can’t it be both?’

‘We saved the world and we fucked it up.’

‘Yeah.’ San takes Wooyoung’s hand in his, laces their fingers together. Thinks about their own lives. ‘What do you think you’ll do?’

‘About the world?’

‘About us.’ The _us_ that includes Yeosang now, even if San wishes it didn’t.

Wooyoung rolls away, onto his back. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. His hand is still in San’s. ‘What do you think I should do?’

‘You can’t ask me that,’ San says. Wooyoung squeezes his hand.

‘Who else am I meant to ask?,’ he says. ‘I mean, apart from Yeosang. Obviously.’

‘Why do you even need to ask?’ San says. ‘It’s not like either of us is going to say, “Actually, I don’t want you any more, sorry.”’

Wooyoung huffs out air through his mouth. ‘Maybe I don’t know that,’ he says. ‘It’s not like I always know what’s going on in your head. Or his.’ He pauses. ‘Well, maybe more his than yours – you’re pretty transparent.’ He looks at San with a smile in his eyes, and San pokes his tongue at him.

‘If I’m so transparent,’ San says, ‘then you know what I _want_ you to do.’ What San wants him to do is to say of course he loves San the best, and wants to be with only him. But that’s not necessarily what Wooyoung _should_ do.

‘Right,’ Wooyoung says. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ San says. He doesn’t want Wooyoung to think he’s mad at him.

‘Do you still want to have sex, though?’

‘Are you gonna ask Yeosang the same thing?’

‘Uh … yes?’

‘Then does it make a difference what I say?’

‘Well, it makes a difference to whether or not you get off this morning ...’

‘I can get off without you,’ San says. He’s close enough that when Wooyoung laughs, he feels it.

‘If you say so,’ Wooyoung says. ‘Look, it’s not a test. I just …’ He trails off..

San really doesn’t want Wooyoung to be upset. Wooyoung hasn’t done anything wrong. Making different choices in different lives isn’t wrong.

‘I’m just kidding,’ he says. ‘We can still have sex.’ Because if it’s a choice between being with Wooyoung and not being with Wooyoung, San will always choose to be with him.

That’s true whatever the circumstances. San will take as much as he can get. Even when Wooyoung was with Yeosang and not him – the same was true then. Given the opportunity, San would have taken it.

He takes it now.

* * *

When Yeosang arrives for breakfast, San and Wooyoung have already eaten. Whatever they’re talking about gets put on hold when Yeosang walks in; San gets a look like he’s preparing to endure some form of torture.

Yeosang makes himself ignore them, and joins Hongjoong in the kitchen. He prepares his breakfast with more focus than usual, as if that can distract him from the thought of what Wooyoung and San being together in the morning means.

When Wooyoung comes into the kitchen, Hongjoong gets out their way. Sensible Hongjoong.

‘Did you sleep okay?’ Wooyoung asks.

Yeosang shoots him a disbelieving look. ‘Did you?’

Wooyoung leans back against the kitchen bench. He chews his lip and says, ‘Eventually.’

Yeosang doesn’t want to ask whether San stayed the night. He really, really doesn’t want to know.

‘I had this pretty weird dream though,’ Wooyoung says. ‘Do you want to hear?’

‘What?’ Yeosang looks at him and looks at him again. ‘Are you serious right now?’

‘Not really, but this is an awkward conversation. Should we start again? Did you sleep okay?’

‘I slept fine.’

‘Okay. That’s good. Wouldn’t want to have this incredibly awkward conversation on no sleep.’

‘Who’s making it awkward?’

‘Are you mad?’ Wooyoung says. ‘Because I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve it.’

Pointedly, Yeosang looks out toward the dining area, where San is talking to Hongjoong half-heartedly.

‘Oh, what, am I just supposed to stay celibate –’ Wooyoung starts, and Yeosang wants to shut up his ears; he says, ‘I’m not talking about this here,’ and he takes his breakfast and he walks out to where the others are because he knows at least that Wooyoung has the sense not to discuss his sex life in front of Hongjoong.

Yeosang can’t even look at San. He can’t look at him. He never should have left Wooyoung alone last night; it doesn’t matter what Seonghwa says, he fucked up by not going after him and now he’s going to pay.

Wooyoung follows him out, of course. But he lets the conversation drop, and chats to Hongjoong instead about where they might go next. Yeosang only half-listens – it doesn’t matter what they do next, to him – and he leaves as quickly as he can.

‘You don’t need to follow me,’ Yeosang says, when they’re out in the hall and Wooyoung is behind him.

‘I think I do,’ Wooyoung says.

Yeosang wants to make some comment about how _he_ didn’t follow Wooyoung, last night, but it makes him feel pathetic thinking about it. So he holds his tongue.

He heads back to his own room, with the bed he didn’t sleep in last night – let Wooyoung mark that, if he will – and Wooyoung follows him inside and shuts the door.

‘Now can we talk?’ Wooyoung says.

‘Can I stop you?’

Wooyoung lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘You’re really annoying sometimes, you know that.’

‘Well, sorry.’

Wooyoung sighs again, more softly. He walks toward Yeosang, into his space.

Yeosang backs away.

Wooyoung walks forward some more.

Yeosang backs into the bed, and then he has to sit down fast. He half expects Wooyoung to back him down again, except that Wooyoung surprises him by sitting down on the floor. He rests his head against Yeosang’s knee, and Yeosang goes still.

‘I’m sorry,’ Wooyoung says. ‘You probably should be mad at me.’

‘Yeah.’

Wooyoung looks up at him with big eyes and he says, ‘Will you forgive me?’

It completely throws Yeosang, to be asked that like this.

‘I … what am I forgiving you for?’

‘Being a bad boyfriend.’

‘Right. I … are you going to stay down there?’

‘Maybe. Do you want me to?’

Maybe he does. But that seems like getting started on the wrong foot.

Wooyoung tilts his head at him.

‘Fine,’ Yeosang says. He gets down on the floor beside Wooyoung.

Wooyoung looks like he might laugh. ‘You’re not gonna invite me to sit on the bed instead?’

‘This is better.’

‘Okay,’ Wooyoung says. He folds himself up over his own knees, and looks at Yeosang with a curious expression. A light expression.

‘You couldn’t have even waited one night?’ Yeosang says.

‘Technically it was the morning,’ Wooyoung says, and ducks his head when Yeosang glares at him. ‘I’m not making things better, am I?’

‘Not really.’

Wooyoung unfolds himself then, and leans over into Yeosang’s space. It’s not like he isn’t always in Yeosang’s space, but right now it feels fraught.

Wooyoung kisses him.

It’s the most normal thing in the world – but at the same time it’s the thing Yeosang has been most jealous of, oh, in the forever since he first saw how San and Wooyoung were together. And because it’s both things, Yeosang can’t hold into his anger. He lets Wooyoung kiss him. He lets himself be kissed until he feels dizzy even sitting down, and then Wooyoung cups his cheek, and he says, ‘Better now?’

Yeosang is incapable of coming up with a smart answer; he just nods. Wooyoung’s smile is relieved and sweet, and Yeosang remembers, then, the good thing that normal is.

* * *

Seonghwa is sitting on the garden wall, when Yeosang finds him later.

‘Did you talk to Wooyoung?’ Seonghwa asks

The question makes Yeosang turn pink. ‘Kind of.’

‘Kind of?’

Yeosang sits up beside Seonghwa, and he kicks his legs against the wall. ‘There may not have been a lot of talking involved.’

‘Yeosang.’ Seonghwa can’t help the dismay in his voice.

Yeosang looks at him through his lashes. ‘Don’t say it like that,’ he says. ‘What am I meant to do? Do you think it’s that wrong to just go on like this?’

Seonghwa doesn’t think that right or wrong have anything to do with this.

‘Would you be happy like that?’ he asks, which he thinks is a better question.

Yeosang makes a low humming noise, considering it. Seonghwa desperately, silently, wants him to say no, he wouldn’t be happy.

‘I don’t know,’ Yeosang says at last. ‘But I wouldn’t be happy to break up. And … I wouldn’t be happy if he broke up with San either. Don’t you think?’

Seonghwa presses his hands into the wall until the concrete digs in.

‘Were you unhappy when you weren’t dating Wooyoung?’ he asks. He doesn’t dare look at Yeosang then, because there’s a question underneath the question.

‘I wasn’t unhappy,’ Yeosang says, the words coming slowly. ‘It was still the eight of us together, wasn’t it? I couldn’t be that unhappy.’

Even if Seonghwa doesn’t meet Yeosang’s eyes, he can feel the weight of his attention.

‘Hyung,’ Yeosang says, ‘are you not happy?’

‘Right now?’ Seonghwa says. ‘My mind’s a mess.’

‘Oh.’

Yeosang shifts position, pulling his leg up onto the wall so he can face Seonghwa. Just to show he’s listening.

‘I don’t know how we’re meant to fit ourselves back together again,’ Seonghwa says slowly. It’s easier to say that than to suggest that his unhappiness might have anything to do with Yeosang. Evidently, Yeosang has been oblivious to Seonghwa in both their shared lives. No matter that they’re sitting together like this, and Yeosang is asking after him like this.

‘Do you feel like you were that different?’

Seongha shrugs a shoulder.

Yeosang’s expression is soft. ‘I guess if I’m worried about something big,’ he says, ‘I don’t have to worry about everything else that doesn’t line up.’

Seonghwa doesn’t think it’s right to say he doesn’t have something big of his own to worry about. But his is only the feeling of rejection – of realising he was never in the running for something he had, in one life, hoped for.

‘I’m sure it’s the same for everyone right now,’ Seonghwa says. They at least have an explanation for the sudden reintegration of their lives; the rest of the world does not.

Thinking of it that way, Seonghwa doesn’t know if they had the right to do what they did.

* * *

Hongjoong gathers them together after lunch, to discuss _what next_.

Wooyoung watches San and Yeosang eye each other up when they enter the room. San takes the seat next to Wooyoung, almost apologetically, while Yeosang sits across the table, like a respectable adult who isn’t bothered by any of this. Wooyoung knows better though.

They’ll have to have the conversation Wooyoung is dreading soon. Still, that’s not what they’re here for now. The question Hongjoong has for them is this: where do they go next, now that their one world is the entire world?

Once they get round to Wooyoung, his answer is simple enough. ‘I’d like to know that my mother is alright.’ It’s been a long time since they were able to see their families, and Wooyoung wants to think that they will have survived everything that’s happened – but they don’t know that, do they? They can’t know until they go back into the world.

‘I’d like to find who was responsible for the cataclysm in the first place,’ San says. ‘I want to know _why_.’

‘You think they’ll have a good reason?’ Jongho asks.

‘What reason could be good enough?’ San says. ‘They broke the whole world.’

Seonghwa gets a funny expression on his face, when San says that. Seonghwa hadn’t said much, when it was his turn – just that he’d go along with what the others chose.

‘You don’t think we should try it, hyung?’ Wooyoung asks. Only when Wooyoung addresses him, Seonghwa goes stiff, and Wooyoung has the sudden feeling that he’s made a mistake.

Seonghwa doesn’t look at him. ‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ he says. Wooyoung is ready to protest, but Hongjoong cuts in.

‘It’s not like we have to decide right now,’ Hongjoong says. ‘It’s not a bad idea just to take a few days to rest.’

Seonghwa doesn’t say anything. He’s determinedly avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes.

Wooyoung hasn’t done anything to make Seonghwa mad at him – not in either of his lives. He doesn’t think he has. Maybe he shouldn’t have drawn attention to Seonghwa just now? But that doesn’t seem like enough of a reason for Seonghwa to have frozen over like he did.

Seonghwa is the first one to leave, after their impromptu meeting draws to a close. Wooyoung dithers for a minute, but then he goes after him. 

When he gets to Seonghwa’s room, the door is shut. He knocks, but there’s no response, so Wooyoung lets himself in.

Seonghwa is lying on the bed, and he rolls over to face the wall when Wooyoung comes in.

‘Are you okay?’ Wooyoung asks.

Seonghwa makes a noise that could equally well mean yes or no.

Wooyoung closes the door behind himself. ‘Are you mad at me?’ he asks. It seems to be the question of the day.

‘I’m not mad,’ Seonghwa says. Speaking, at least.

‘Then why are you acting like you’re mad?’

Seonghwa doesn’t answer this time.

‘Come on, hyung,’ Wooyoung says, ‘I thought you believed in everyone expressing their feelings honestly. Or is that only when you’re in a position to give advice?’

‘Now’s not the time.’

With some hesitation, Wooyoung sits down on the bed next to Seonghwa. ‘What’s wrong right now?’

Seonghwa rolls back and glares at Wooyoung with a ferocity Wooyoung has never had directed at him before.

‘How can you think you can just go on with both of them?’

Wooyoung is thrown. ‘You mean San and Yeosang?’

Seonghwa keeps glaring. 

‘That’s what you’re mad about? Seriously?’

‘It’s not fair,’ Seonghwa says. ‘It’s not fair to them.’

‘It’s the fairest thing I can do,’ Wooyoung says. He’s surprised how hurt he feels. ‘I can’t pretend they don’t both matter to me.’

He thinks from Seonghwa’s expression that he might clam up. But after a pause, Seonghwa says, ‘We all _matter_ to each other,’ his voice deeply cutting.

‘You know what I mean,’ Wooyoung says. ‘I’m not breaking up with one of them just to make the situation more acceptable to the rest of you.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I mean, how would that be fair? “Sorry, I guess in our last life when I told you I loved you, I didn’t mean it at all – bye now?” I won’t do that.’

‘You think you can just have everything,’ Seonghwa says. His words clamp down on Wooyoung’s heart like a judgement.

‘Why are you being like this?’

Seonghwa doesn’t answer. He looks at the wall.

‘Did one of them say something? Did Yeosang say something?’

Seonghwa doesn’t answer, but there’s a change to the line of his mouth. A warning.

‘Yeosang said something?’

‘He didn’t say anything,’ Seonghwa snaps.

‘But you’re worried about him.’ 

Seonghwa is worried about Yeosang in particular. He’s always been solicitous of Yeosang in particular.

And Wooyoung has been an idiot.

‘Hyung, do you maybe … like Yeosang?’

Seonghwa doesn’t answer.

‘You like Yeosang.’

Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, and he doesn’t say yes or no but that’s an answer in itself.

‘Have you told him?’

Seonghwa shakes his head, the smallest motion.

‘Why not?’ Wooyoung asks.

‘I can’t,’ Seonghwa says. He sounds distressed enough that Wooyoung thinks he actually believes it. ‘I can’t ever, now.’ Seonghwa gives Wooyoung another dirty look, before he turns away again.

For once, Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing he can say, for comfort. Even if he said, _of course you still can, I’m not that much of a hypocrite,_ he doesn’t think Seonghwa would believe him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Wooyoung says. They’re the only words he can think of.

They help nothing.

* * *

Later, Wooyoung finds Hongjoong in the kitchen, and he asks him, ‘Did you know Seonghwa liked Yeosang?’

Hongjoong is in the middle of getting a drink, and he stops with his hand in the air like he’s been caught at something.

‘Yes?’ Hongjoong says. He stretches the word out.

‘Seriously?’

Hongjoong shuts the fridge door. He leans back against the bench like he’s settling in for something unpleasant.

‘You knew?’

‘I mean, it’s not like he said anything,’ Hongjoong says. ‘But, uh … it was pretty obvious.’ Then he mutters, ‘Maybe not to Yeosang though.’

Wooyoung wants to know what _pretty obvious_ entails, because he never noticed and he always thought he and Seonghwa were pretty close. But maybe he’s wrong about that.

‘Look, Wooyoung,’ Hongjoong says, ‘I think you should leave this alone.’

‘What does that even mean?’

‘I mean, you can’t do anything to make it better. So just leave it.’

It’s alright for Hongjoong to say. He’s not the one getting glared at. No-one is accusing him of being _unfair_ just because of who he loves. Hongjoong had the good fucking luck to fall in love with the same person in both his lives. He doesn’t have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings.

Must be nice to be as low drama as Kim Hongjoong.

But even though he’s hurt, Wooyoung doesn’t say any of that. ‘Fine,’ he says, ‘I get it.’

If he’s going to generate drama, he’ll do it for something more noteworthy than just spending his frustration in a fight with Hongjoong.

Something like proving him wrong.

* * *

That evening, Seonghwa takes his dinner to his room. Yeosang spends half the meal fretting over him, and when San declares afterwards that he’s going to check on him, Yeosang says he’ll go too. He doesn’t even think about it.

San stares at him for a moment, but then he says, ‘Okay.’

Wooyoung has already been roped into helping with the dishes, so he’s not there to mediate; the two of them walk to Seonghwa’s room alone.

‘This is pretty awkward, huh,’ San says.

‘Yup.’

If he’d given it any consideration at all, Yeosang might have stayed behind. But it’s not like he and San can avoid each other forever.

When they get to Seonghwa’s room, San doesn’t knock but peeks his head in. ‘Hello,’ he says. ‘We’ve come to check on you.’

‘I’m fine,’ Seonghwa says. When Yeosang looks in, Seonghwa is lying on the bed with his arm over his eyes, like maybe the light is too bright. He’s left his dinner uneaten.

‘You’re not sick?’ San asks.

Seonghwa shakes his head. San and Yeosang exchange a look.

‘Can we come in then?’ San says.

Seonghwa turns his head to look at them – to look at Yeosang – and Yeosang’s heart skips a beat.

‘Do you have to?’ Seonghwa says.

‘No?’ San says.

‘It’s okay if you just want to be left alone,’ Yeosang says. ‘We just thought we’d check.’

Seonghwa nods.

‘Okay,’ San says. ‘Well, have a good night.’ He backs them both out the doorway, and then he shuts the door.

The two of them look at each other.

‘Should we take a walk?’ Yeosang asks. He doesn’t want to stay outside Seonghwa’s room if they’re going to talk about him.

San nods, and they walk.

‘He said before he wasn’t feeling great about the –’ Yeosang isn’t sure how to put it – ‘you know, being one person again.’

‘Do you think that’s it?’

‘I don’t know. He’s been funny all day.’ More quietly, Yeosang says, ‘I think I talked too much.’

‘You?’ San sounds doubtful. ‘Why would that be a problem?’

Yeosang can’t tell San the reason he suspects – even thinking it feels like self-aggrandisement. 

‘No-one wants to hear someone else complain when they’re feeling shitty,’ he says instead. ‘I was being thoughtless.’

‘ _You_ were complaining?’

‘You know,’ Yeosang says, and he pulls a face. He doesn’t want to say why outright, not to San.

San gives him a suspicious look and he says, ‘I guess we’re all pretty stressed.’ That surprises a laugh from Yeosang – _stressed_ hardly seems an adequate description.

But if anyone knows what he’s feeling right now, San does.

* * *

When Yunho asks Wooyoung to do the dishes with him, Wooyoung thinks he knows why.

‘If you’re going to give me a talking to, can we skip it?’ he says, as he goes to fill the sink.

‘Why would I give you a talking to?’ Yunho asks.

‘Don’t try and trick me into giving myself a talking to either.’

‘Do you think I need to?’ Yunho sounds amused.

‘Seonghwa already told me I was a bad person,’ Wooyoung says, ‘so I think I’m covered.’ He starts to move the plates into the sink.

‘He did not.’

‘No, he just said I was being “unfair” and “selfish” – okay, he didn’t actually say selfish –’ It’s strangely satisfying, to scrub dishes and complain at the same time – ‘but he definitely hates me right now.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And Hongjoong was judging me but I think that was about Seonghwa.’ He looks at Yunho out the corner of his eye and he wonders how much to explain. It’s one thing to ask Hongjoong about Seonghwa’s feelings, but Yunho is another matter. Even though Hongjoong will probably tell all this to Yunho tonight anyway, while they’re in bed together. Yuck.

‘Also,’ Wooyoung goes on, ‘I don’t know who I’m meant to sleep with tonight.’

He can hear Yunho trying not to laugh.

‘It’s not funny,’ Wooyoung says, ‘I’m serious!’

‘Sorry,’ Yunho says. ‘I know, sorry.’

‘And then I think well maybe I should just sleep by myself. But I don’t want to do that.’

‘No.’

‘Maybe I should flip a coin.’

‘Let fate decide?’

‘But then I feel like maybe I’m making it too important? And I don’t know.’

‘Maybe you can all sleep together,’ Yunho says slyly, and Wooyoung looks at him like he’s scandalised. And then he stops, and he frowns. ‘Are you trying to make me feel better?’

‘No, I’m giving you a talking to, remember?’

He’s being nice. Wooyoung doesn’t feel like he deserves it right now.

‘I don’t think people are required to only love one person,’ Yunho says. ‘As long as you’re honest, you can do what you like.’

‘Right?’ Wooyoung wants to hug him but he’s wearing rubber gloves and he’s all sudsy.

He hugs him anyway. Yunho bears it.

* * *

Wooyoung is just leaving the kitchen when Yeosang and San get back.

Yunho claps Wooyoung on the back and he says, ‘Good luck.’ He winks at the other two before he leaves. It’s cringey.

‘Uh …’ San says, ‘we went to check on Seonghwa.’

‘Oh,’ Wooyoung says, relieved that that’s all. ‘How’s he feeling?’

‘Not sociable,’ San says. ‘He said he’s not sick though.’

Obviously not. It’s only Wooyoung to blame.

‘Did he have dinner?’ Wooyoung asks.

San looks at Yeosang, and Yeosang shakes his head.

‘Well, that’s like him, I suppose,’ Wooyoung says. When Seonghwa’s in a mood, he doesn’t eat. It’s another thing for Wooyoung to feel guilty about.

But Seonghwa isn’t the only thing on Wooyoung’s mind. He looks at San and Yeosang, standing together, and he says, ‘I really don’t know how we’re meant to do this.’

‘Uh –’ Yeosang and San exchange a look, and Wooyoung worries they’ve misunderstood.

‘Logistically!’ he says. ‘I mean logistically, not, like, in an absolute sense.’

‘An absolute sense?’ San repeats.

‘Yeah.’ Yunho told him to be honest, but it’s not like Wooyoung has a template for any of this. ‘I mean, I’m not breaking up with anyone. Unless I guess you want to dump me, which might be fair in this situation.’ They’re both staring at him, with identical bewilderment. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’

‘Yeah, you’re not that smooth,’ Yeosang says.

Wooyoung pulls a face at him.

‘It’s like any of us ever had our lives smashed together before,’ San says. He holds a hand near his mouth, and he looks sidelong at Yeosang. ‘It’s okay if it’s Yeosang.’ There’s a slight hitch to his voice.

And maybe Wooyoung should question it, but it’s a relief to hear.

‘We can work it out,’ Yeosang says.

* * *

That night, Yeosang very nobly volunteers to sleep by himself. He doesn’t know if that’s ceding something or just allowing himself control.

In the morning, he gets up early, and takes his breakfast to the garden to eat. There is a cacophony of birds outside, and he wonders if they’re affected by the whole double-life situation too. Most of these birds probably hatched after the cataclysm, though – in which case, are there twice as many as there were before? Is that why they’re so noisy?

He’s still thinking about birds when Wooyoung surprises him with a hug from behind.

‘Good morning,’ Wooyoung says. He kisses the side of Yeosang’s head before he sits on the grass next to him.

‘You’re up early,’ Yeosang says.

‘I wanted to talk to you.’

Yeosang can’t help the way his stomach drops when Wooyoung says that. Wooyoung, though, seems blissfully unaware.

‘It’s about Seonghwa.’

Is that better? Yeosang’s not sure it’s better. ‘Okay,’ he says.

Wooyoung tugs the grass with his fingers. ‘He probably won’t like me telling you this.’

‘You don’t have to tell me anything.’

‘No, I’m going to,’ Wooyoung says. He’s frowning slightly, but not at Yeosang. ‘Let’s try this. In the life where we _weren’t_ dating … what did you think of Seonghwa?’

It’s like being doused with ice water.

‘What sort of question is that?’ Yeosang says. And then, feeling panicky, ‘It’s the same. Why wouldn’t it be the same?’

‘I don’t know,’ Wooyoung says, ‘you tell me.’ He looks Yeosang in the eye, and Yeosang wants to hide. 

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ he says.

‘Really,’ Wooyoung says, with infinite dubiousness. ‘You know I don’t mind. It’s not like you were getting laid on the regular in your other life.’

‘Nothing happened,’ Yeosang says.

Wooyoung’s eyes light up. ‘So you admit that something _could_ have happened.’

‘No, it’s not like –’ This is useless. ‘Nothing happened.’

‘You said that.’ Wooyoung shifts closer to him, and Yeosang doesn’t know where to put himself. ‘You have to know I don’t mind.’

‘Really though,’ Yeosang says. ‘Seonghwa would never … it’s not like there would be any point …’

Wooyoung purses his lips. ‘You’re both hopeless.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Of course nothing happened; you two could never get it together on your own.’ Wooyoung sits back again, and stretches his legs out in front of him. He knocks one leg against Yeosang’s. ‘I know nothing happened,’ he says. ‘I was asking how you _felt_.’

‘Why though?’

Wooyoung knocks his leg again. ‘You don’t need to look so freaked out. I’m not trying to pawn you off.’

‘Wooyoung!’

Wooyoung sighs. ‘Seonghwa thinks I’m being unfair.’

‘Hang on, what?’ Wooyoung and Seonghwa had talked about this? ‘Unfair how?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ Wooyoung grumbles. ‘Anyway, so what I wanted to say is that if you wanted to hook up with Seonghwa, I don’t mind.’

Yeosang doesn’t know what to say.

‘Just Seonghwa though. I’m not talking about anyone else.’

‘I think maybe you’re thinking too much of me,’ Yeosang says in a faint voice.

‘No,’ Wooyoung says.

‘No?’

‘I’m not thinking too much of you. Geez, Yeosang.’

Yeosang feels distinctly as if Wooyoung’s raced ahead and left him behind.

‘Anyway, it’s up to you.’ Wooyoung folds his arms. ‘I just don’t want anyone to say I’m setting different expectations for you two than I am for myself.’

‘Would they say that?’

‘Yes,’ Wooyoung says.

‘Oh.’

‘Anyway, don’t tell Seonghwa we had this conversation – he’ll kill me.’

If Wooyoung is truly suggesting he hook up with Seonghwa, Yeosang feels like the fact they’ve discussed it _might be relevant_.

‘Also,’ Wooyoung goes on, ‘don’t hook up with him tonight. We have a date, remember.’

‘I –’ Yeosang doesn’t even know which part of that to disagree with. ‘I really don’t think that’s likely,’ he says weakly.

‘Not with that attitude,’ Wooyoung says. ‘No wonder you’re single without me.’

‘I’m … with you, though?’

‘You are,’ Wooyoung says. He leans over and kisses Yeosang on the lips.

Yeosang is so confused right now.

* * *

Seonghwa wakes up feeling sick. His body remembers before he does, how miserable he is.

Maybe he can just stay in his room forever. Then he won’t have to face Wooyoung and he won’t have to face Yeosang, and he won’t have to face Yeosang not even knowing why Seonghwa can’t face him.

But, of course, he has to get up.

He makes it through breakfast without running into either of them. He makes it to mid-morning before San comes to check on him, but San, whilst being Wooyoung-adjacent, is impossible to hold anything against – so Seonghwa tells him he’s feeling better and San shouldn’t worry.

San says he always worries, which is sweet but unnecessary. The only one Seonghwa wants to be a worry to is Yeosang, and if that’s impossible, he should be a worry to no-one.

He makes it to afternoon without seeing Yeosang, but he manages that by packing a lunch and taking a long walk, off the main grounds and to the top of the hill that looks out toward the sea.

He’s still there when Yeosang finds him.

‘Hongjoong said you were headed up here,’ Yeosang says. He drops down on the ground next to Seonghwa. ‘It’s pretty.’

He’s talking about the sea, but Seonghwa isn’t looking at the sea any more.

‘Are you still feeling messed up?’ Yeosang asks.

Seonghwa doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not that it was even a lie, but it seems so insignificant against Wooyoung knowing how he feels.

He can’t say that to Yeosang though, and so he nods.

Yeosang doesn’t say anything. He looks back toward the sea. His hand on the ground is very close to Seonghwa’s, but he could be as distant as the shore.

‘You don’t have to keep checking up on me,’ Seonghwa says.

‘I want to,’ Yeosang says. ‘You –’ He catches his lip in his teeth. ‘Why wouldn’t I check up on you?’

Seonghwa wants to resist the feeling of warmth Yeosang’s words give him. ‘You’ve got bigger things to worry about,’ he says.

‘Really?’

‘You said yesterday.’

‘That … I was talking about something different then. But I shouldn’t have said it. Sorry.’

When Seonghwa doesn’t say anything, Yeosang knocks his shoulder against his. ‘I really don’t have anything bigger to worry about than you.’

‘What about the whole world?’

Yeosang rolls his eyes. ‘I’m not talking to the world.’ When Seonghwa doesn’t say anything, he adds, ‘I’m talking to you.’

‘You can keep talking,’ Seonghwa says. ‘I don’t have to talk back.’ He doesn’t want Yeosang to cheer him up. It will be immensely unfair if Yeosang cheers him up when Yeosang is the reason he’s down in the first place.

‘Alright then,’ Yeosang says, in mock offense. Then he laughs quietly. ‘What do you want me to say?’

_Say it was all a mistake. Say there is a conflict in your two lives after all. Say you noticed me at all, in that life where you can’t say you were unhappy._

Seonghwa’s not cruel enough to say those things. Yeosang means well. He doesn’t know why Seonghwa is conflicted.

‘Oh right,’ Yeosang says. ‘You can’t answer.’

‘I don’t _have_ to answer.’

‘You don’t have to answer.’ Yeosang is smiling, and it makes Seonghwa want to smile too. ‘If I’m checking up on you, then I should be saying things like, “You still ate properly, right? Don’t starve yourself _._ ” Did you have lunch?’

Seonghwa nods.

‘Good.’ Yeosang stops talking. He just looks at Seonghwa.

So Seonghwa looks back.

‘Good,’ Yeosang says again.

‘Is that all you’re going to say?’

‘I’m stuck. You’re not helping.’

Seonghwa really can’t be mad at Yeosang. ‘I’m not meant to be helpful,’ Seonghwa says, ‘I’m meant to be being cheered up.’

‘Is it working?’

‘Maybe,’ Seonghwa says. But he can’t help it – he does smile.

* * *

San is sitting by the window when the two of them come back. Seonghwa looks more at ease than he had earlier, even from a distance – more than he had after talking to San.

Is San jealous? Maybe he’s cursed to want everything that Yeosang has, in reverse.

It just seems unfair, for Yeosang to get along with Seonghwa, and to want to keep Wooyoung too.

After dinner, he stops Yeosang in the hall, and he says ‘Did Seonghwa speak to you?’ He tries not to sound belligerent. ‘He just told me he was feeling better and not to worry about it.’

‘Ah,’ Yeosang says. ‘That.’

‘That?’

Yeosang’s face has gone funny. San takes him by the arm and drags him to his room, where he can interrogate him without being disturbed.

‘What did he say?’

‘Seonghwa didn’t say anything, exactly. I mean, we didn’t really talk about it.’

Yeosang hadn’t made that face for the sake of something they hadn’t really talked about.

San waits. Eventually, Yeosang sighs, and he sits down on the bed.

‘Wooyoung said something, though,’ he says.

‘Wooyoung did?’ San thinks back to the day before. ‘Hang on, did _they_ have a fight?’

I think so,’ Yeosang says. He looks a bit miserable.

‘Why?’

‘Wooyoung was kind of vague, but … I think it was about me?’ His voice goes high, and he flops back on the bed and covers his eyes with his hands. ‘That sounds terrible.’

San looks at Yeosang, lying on his bed, and he wonders, _why are you telling me this?_ Even though San is the one who asked. How can Yeosang just tell him something like that? San is meant to be his rival – doesn’t he know how it sounds?

But no, he just said _that sounds terrible_.

Yeosang drags his fingers down his face, and he looks at San. Of course, Yeosang has a pretty face. Of course, he would get fought over.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Yeosang says.

‘You’re not asking me for advice?’

‘No, I don’t … Wooyoung told me he didn’t mind …’ Yeosang screws his face up, cringes at the words that come out his mouth.

‘Didn’t mind what?’

Yeosang doesn’t answer right away.

‘I shouldn’t be telling you this,’ Yeosang says. He rolls over onto his front, but then he says, ‘He said he doesn’t mind if I sleep with Seonghwa.’

Then Yeosang buries his face in San’s bedspread like he wants to die.

‘Yeah, you shouldn’t tell me stuff like that,’ San says numbly.

Yeosang lifts his head to look at him.

Maybe it’s a dick thing for San to say.

‘Right,’ Yeosang says weakly. He sits back up.

And San definitely feels like a dick, because Yeosang was just treating him like a friend. Like they’re meant to be. Like they were, until two days ago.

Or maybe San has always been jealous of Yeosang, and covered it up for the sake of others.

‘That’s what I know, anyway,’ Yeosang says, his voice gone flat. He gets up.

‘Wait,’ San says. He grabs Yeosang’s wrist. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want us to fight too.’

‘You’re right though.’

‘But I was the one who asked.’ And San doesn’t want him to leave like this. He doesn’t want jealousy to have got the better of him. ‘Wooyoung shouldn’t say things like that,’ he says, trying the words out. ‘Like he’s the only one whose opinion matters. There’s three of us.’

Yeosang stares at him for a moment. ‘Hang on, are you saying _you’d_ mind?’

‘Of course I’d mind,’ San says. He’s still holding onto Yeosang’s wrist; probably he should let go already. ‘Or … someone should at least ask me if I mind.’ It makes him feel raw, to say that. Yeosang’s not his boyfriend, to make demands of. But it’s not like he can say they’re only friends either.

‘Okay,’ Yeosang says. ‘I think I get that.’

San lets go of him then. Yeosang, hesitantly, sits back down next to him.

‘You like Seonghwa too?’ San asks. He feels deflated.

‘It doesn’t really matter, does it?’

‘It matters,’ San says. If it didn’t matter, no-one would be upset.

‘It’s not like anything would have happened anyway,’ Yeosang says. ‘Even if we hadn’t just –’ he waves a hand – ‘you know.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m not like you,’ Yeosang says. ‘I can’t just say to someone how I feel.’ He looks down, and then, surprisingly, he laughs. ‘You know it’s actually your fault Wooyoung and I ever got together in the first place?’

‘What?’

Yeosang holds his hand to his face. ‘Do you remember once … we’d been drinking and I got all mopey and you were trying to cheer me up but I wouldn’t tell you why? And then you went and got Wooyoung?’

San’s not sure if he does remember. But Yeosang doesn’t wait for an answer.

‘I was so jealous,’ he says. ‘And you were so nice.’

‘That’s when you two got together?’ San feels like he should remember, if that were the case.

‘No, I … I was pretty drunk.’ Yeosang looks away. ‘I’m surprised he even knew what I meant. I don’t think I knew what I meant.’

‘I don’t think it’s my fault if you got drunk and confessed to Wooyoung,’ San says. ‘That sounds pretty normal.’

‘You have to have a clue to confess to someone,’ Yeosang says. ‘I was just … I was really jealous that you two were spending all this time together. But I never would have said anything if you hadn’t … I mean, I know I wouldn’t, because I didn’t. I lived this whole life where I never said anything! And you two … don’t you think that’s nuts?’

‘It’s just random,’ San says. He’d rather believe it was random, than think that because he was too nice to Yeosang one time, he screwed up his own chances. ‘I should have been meaner.’

Yeosang laughs. ‘I _wished_ you were meaner.’

Would it be mean now, if San tells Yeosang he can’t pursue Seonghwa? Wooyoung would probably say it was mean. But then Wooyoung goes around saying things like _he doesn’t mind_ that he should mind.

San can only say that he doesn’t mind with Yeosang because they’re already in this situation. Because it was random. Yeosang got drunk in one world and not the other, or San was too nice, or whatever difference it was that led to this end. Something that couldn’t be helped, anyway.

But if Yeosang isn’t even faithful to Wooyoung, San doesn’t think he can stand it.

‘I won’t do anything,’ Yeosang says. ‘You don’t have to worry.’

San’s throat feels too thick to answer. He nods.

Maybe it’s enough that Yeosang takes him seriously. If he can really not mind this situation, more than just saying he doesn’t, it’s because Yeosang takes him seriously.

Even when maybe San just wants to be cruel.

* * *

‘Before you ask,’ Yeosang says to Wooyoung later, ‘yes, I spoke to Seonghwa; no, I didn’t jump him.’ He collapses back on Wooyoung’s bed. ‘That’s not a thing that’s happening.’

‘When you say “spoke” …’

‘We didn’t talk about it,’ Yeosang says. ‘It’s not happening.’

Wooyoung is still standing beside the bed, looking dubiously down at Yeosang. ‘So you _don’t_ like Seonghwa?’

‘I’m saying it’s not relevant, Yeosang says. ‘We don’t have to do everything we might like to.’

Wooyoung narrows his eyes, like maybe he thinks Yeosang is taking a jab at him. Yeosang is not.

‘Look, it’s not really you Seonghwa is upset with,’ he says, ‘it’s me. It’s my choice. Okay?’

Wooyoung frowns more deeply, but then he sighs and joins Yeosang on the bed.

‘It just seems so unnecessary,’ Wooyoung says. He sits back against the headboard, and Yeosang shuffles up next to him.

‘Can we maybe not talk about Seonghwa for a bit?’ Yeosang says. He walks his fingers up Wooyoung’s chest.

‘Why, you got something else you want to talk about?’ Wooyoung asks.

‘No, I want you to shut up for a bit.’

Wooyoung laughs, and Yeosang kisses him.

And it’s not as if Yeosang couldn’t be perfectly happy with Wooyoung for the rest of his life. That’s the thing he’s always wanted, long before things like romance or sex entered the equation. Maybe the reason he doesn’t mind sharing is because he always assumed he _would_ – that they would have their own relationships and still be best friends, and that the one wouldn’t lessen the importance of the other..

Maybe what they are now is slightly less conventional than Yeosang had envisioned then, but, well, convention has never been the goal.

He loves Wooyoung.

He loves Wooyoung, and he wants to stay by his side. That’s the most important thing. It’s everything.

* * *

The next day they leave. It seems a pity to Wooyoung – it’s not like the original owner’s coming back, and it’s a pretty house, big enough for them all not to feel crowded. There’s even room for Seonghwa to avoid Wooyoung and make it seem entirely natural.

But it is still in the middle of nowhere, and they’re without a convenient form of transportation to get them anywhere else. So it’s a pity to leave, but Wooyoung’s not sorry to be going.

He goes to find San as they’re getting ready to head off in the morning. San is sitting on his backpack, playing with his mirror – flipping it open and then shutting it again. He stops when Wooyoung comes in, looking sheepish.

‘I miss the shortcuts,’ San says.

‘You’re the only one who’d think that,’ Wooyoung says. He sits down beside San, leaning his head on his shoulder, so that their two faces appear in the mirror, reflected exactly.

‘Guess we’ll never know why I even could,’ San says. It was his one particular magic, to travel via the mirrors, and their reintegration of the worlds has rendered it meaningless.

‘Probably so that we _could_ put the worlds back together.’

San snorts. ‘You think we’re that special, huh?’

‘Why not?’ Wooyoung likes the way they look in the mirror; he likes it being a flat thing that shows only the one existence. ‘I wonder how long before people realise they’re just mirrors now?’

‘Who knows?’

They’re interrupted by a knock at the open door. It’s Seonghwa. Wooyoung tenses – he feels like he should straighten up, separate himself from San, but at the same time he doesn’t want to behave differently to keep Seonghwa comfortable.

‘Everyone’s ready now,’ is all Seonghwa says.

‘Okay, we’re coming,’ San says. He gets to his feet, pulling Wooyoung up with him, and Seonghwa disappears without saying anything more.

‘He’s still mad at you, huh?’ San says.

‘Yeah,’ Wooyoung says, looking at the empty doorway. Then he looks back at San. ‘How did you know that?’

‘You know Yeosang and I do actually talk to each other.’

‘Oh.’ Wooyoung wants to ask how much Yeosang told him, but San is already hefting his backpack, and Wooyoung has to grab his stuff to hurry after him.

They meet the others outside. They’re the stragglers, apparently, although Seonghwa seems the only one bothered by it. He’s talking to Hongjoong, and he angles himself away when he sees Wooyoung.

Wooyoung is mad again, suddenly; mad at Seonghwa for being like this; mad at Yeosang for being in between them.

‘You okay?’ San asks. And Wooyoung shakes himself. It’s not good if he lets this stuff show; San will only worry, and Yeosang will feel guilty …

The feeling will pass. He knows it will pass.

So Wooyoung nods. For now.

* * *

They head toward the sea, following the old road. They know there’s a town they can reach before evening, but whether or not it is alive depends on the set of memories they refer to. In one life, they stayed at an inn and ate breakfast in their room; San and Wooyoung went to the market together and bought too much food from the street vendors. In the other, the town was empty, but they stayed there anyway, Wooyoung and Yeosang in the same bed in somebody’s empty house. They didn’t linger so long, in that life.

They stop for lunch when they reach the coast. There’s no town at this intersection of roads, just an old truck stop and petrol station, abandoned in both worlds. Still, the water supply is on, and there’s a shaded lunch area where they can stop to eat. In the shop, some of the snack foods are still good. Once upon a time, they would have felt bad about just taking things, but this spot was abandoned in both their lives. No-one’s coming back for out-of-date stock now.

By the time they make it to town, it’s dark. The lights are a relief – it’s hard to escape the fear that it would be the empty town they would find, rather than one one that still lived.

They head for the same inn they stayed in before; the woman who greets them remembers them.

‘Where were you when it happened?’ she asks, as she ushers them in; apparently she doesn’t feel the need to explain what _it_ is.

‘Inland,’ Hongjoong says. He glances at the others. ‘It was just us. It was the same here?’

The woman waves a hand dismissively. ‘Most people didn’t notice anything,’ she says. ‘I didn’t. But my brother’s family, they were very confused, because they said the whole town had been disappeared and they’d had to move away! Except obviously they’re still here. And we’re still here.’

She leads them inside to one of the private rooms, stopping only to signal to the staff that they’ll need feeding.

‘Then the town sparky ran off,’ she goes on, ‘saying she said she had a whole other family, and children besides. Well, she’d never had any children that we knew of, so her husband wasn’t too impressed with that.’

Someone else brings them tea, and a selection of small dishes; the landlady stops her stream of gossip to confirm that they will again be staying the night, and then she leaves them to begin their meal.

‘I guess that means it’s not just us,’ Yunho says.

‘Imagine having been in two different places,’ Hongjoong says. ‘Two different families.’ His eyes light on Wooyoung only briefly. ‘We got off lightly.’

‘What do you think happened to the people with children?’ Jongho asks. ‘If you only had them in one life, that’s fine, but if you didn’t … it’s not like they all could have been magically conceived at the same time. Would you suddenly have two sets of kids?’

‘It’s probably easier somewhere like this,’ Yunho says, ‘where the town was gone in one world.’ He pulls a face. ‘Not that I’d ever want to say the disappearances were good …’

‘It’s simpler though,’ San says.

‘Simpler, yeah.’

‘Imagine if you’re that woman’s brother though,’ Jongho says. ‘He must’ve thought she was dead.’ In that world, she _had_ been dead; no-one had ever known what happened to the people who disappeared, but the fact that the townspeople here only remember one life – it seems there’s no coming back for those lost.

‘It’s gotta be weird for everyone,’ Hongjoong says. ‘No matter what.’

‘It’s weird that we’re the ones who did that,’ Mingi says. He glances at the door, because it’s not the sort of thing they want to admit in public. Let it just be a natural disaster, or a miracle. Hard to call it one or the other, in the aftermath.

* * *

They sleep in one room, that night. That’s one of those things that’s _simpler_ – no-one has to choose where to spend the night. Wooyoung just sets himself down between San and Yeosand, and it’s not something remarkable; it’s not a decision.

Well. It’s not a decision for Wooyoung. Other people make their own decisions.

* * *

When Yeosang gets up in the night, Seonghwa is gone. Yeosang doesn’t find him in the bathroom, so instead of going back to bed he goes to look for him.

It feels odd, to be walking through the building at night. It’s not completely quiet – not like when they came through the town and it was empty. You can hear that the building is lived in, can hear the water in the pipes, people turning in their sleep.

Yeosang slips outside into the cold night air. Seonghwa is sitting on the porch, looking out at the garden and the buildings beyond them. He glances up when he hears Yeosang, but he doesn’t say anything.

‘Aren’t you cold?’ Yeosang asks. He sits down next to Seonghwa. Seonghwa hesitates a moment, but then he leans into Yeosang, and Yeosang puts an arm around him.

‘It’s not that bad,’ Seonghwa says.

Yeosang’s not sure about that; he wishes he’d brought a blanket himself. ‘Couldn’t you sleep?’

Seonghwa makes an agreeing noise. He leans his head against Yeosang, and Yeosang thinks he might go to sleep now. Yeosang will have to stay awake all night to accommodate him. They’ll probably both freeze to death.

‘I wish we could’ve waited a little longer,’ Seonghwa says. ‘Maybe …’ He doesn’t finish the thought.

Yeosang rests his head against Seonghwa’s, where he can smell the clean shampoo smell of his hair. ‘I don’t know that it would have made a difference,’ he says.

Seonghwa tilts his head back, to look at him, and Yeosang wonders if he ever would have had the guts to do anything, in that one life. When Seonghwa looks at him like that … right now, Yeosang really wants to kiss him.

It would be so easy. And he thinks Seonghwa would let him.

But he said he wouldn’t do anything.

He kisses Seonghwa’s hair instead, an act with more plausible deniability.

‘Don’t be mad at Wooyoung,’ Yeosang says. He feels Seonghwa stiffen next to him, but he leaves his arm where it is, and his cheek against Seonghwa’s hair. ‘I don’t want you two to fight.’

‘Did he tell you?’ Seonghwa says. He sounds a little sulky, in a way that makes Yeosang want to laugh, if he didn’t think Seonghwa would be offended by that.

‘He said a bit,’ Yeosang says. He’s not going to tell Seonghwa what Wooyoung actually said; he could never say what Wooyoung said with a straight face.

Seonghwa turns his head so that his face is buried in Yeosang’s side. Yeosang can barely hear him when he asks, ‘How much is a bit?’

‘Uh. He said you’d kill him if I told you.’

Seonghwa makes a noise like he’s in pain.

‘I guess this isn’t really helping my “don’t be mad at Wooyoung” argument.’

Seonghwa turns his head, and he says, ‘Not really.’

Yeosang pats his shoulder. ‘Don’t be mad, hyung.’

‘I’m not mad,’ Seonghwa mutters. Exactly the way someone who was mad might. But maybe it’s himself he’s mad at. At being the sort of person for whom it wouldn’t matter how much time they had. Yeosang knows that feeling.

‘Do you wanna go back to bed?’ Yeosang asks.

Seonghwa shakes his head.

‘Are you really not cold?’

‘I’m really not cold,’ Seonghwa says, and he turns his head against Yeosang’s side again.

‘That’s because you’re using me as a heater,’ Yeosang grumbles.

Eventually, Seonghwa does fall asleep against him. Yeosang considers the prospect of freezing to death, and then he wakes him up gently. At that point Seonghwa is sleepy enough that he lets Yeosang lead him back inside.

In their room, Yeosang makes space for Seonghwa to sleep beside him. It’s warm inside, with the eight of them, and duvets, and that doesn’t stop Seonghwa from holding onto him anyway.

Yeosang doesn’t mind.

* * *

When San wakes up and sees them like that, he nudges Wooyoung awake. Wooyoung looks for long enough to make the assessment, ‘Yeah, it’s fucking adorable,’ and then he curls back into San’s side, like he’s determined not to wake up just yet.

Well, if Wooyoung told Yeosang he could go ahead and bang Seonghwa, he’s not going to get upset about some cuddling. And it’s not like he knows how much San knows. Probably. So he wouldn’t know what San’s reacting to.

It’s not even that San is upset, exactly. Yeosang told him nothing would happen. Technically, snuggling is well within the bounds of normal behaviour, except that San’s not sure it counts as platonic snuggling under the circumstances. Not when both parties have giant crushes on one another.

Maybe he’ll rark Yeosang up about that later.

And then he hits himself in the forehead, because he _is_ just being mean. He should apologise to Yeosang, he thinks. Although maybe he’s not really sorry. Because Yeosang listened to him.

‘Why did you just hit yourself?’ Wooyoung mumbles. San had thought he’d gone back to sleep.

‘I just realised something.’

‘Oh?’ Wooyoung sits up on one elbow to look at him. ‘What was it?’

‘I’ll tell you later.’

‘Yeah, go back to sleep,’ Hongjoong says from across the room.

‘It’s not that early,’ Wooyoung protests.

Hongjoong makes an incoherent, disagreeable noise.

Wooyoung hmphs, and he lies back down with his head on San’s chest, and then he bites him.

They’ll have to get up soon, San thinks, or Hongjoong will have something else to complain about.

* * *

In the daytime, the town has a strange energy to it – a sort of productive anxiety, like the aftermath of a storm.

Wooyoung drags San into town, to fill in time before they have to leave.

‘That’s the house we stayed at last time,’ Wooyoung says, while they’re walking. The house is a low, spread-out bungalow, and Wooyoung doesn’t remember it at all from the life when they didn’t stay there. Someone is hanging out washing in the yard. ‘Do you think we should apologise?’

‘I’m not sure they’d know what we were talking about,’ San says.

‘Maybe not.’ Wooyoung feels bad in retrospect, though – as if they’d snuck in while the owners were away. Eaten their non-perishable foodstuffs. Slept in their bedclothes. Tried on their hats, which is probably the more embarrassing part.

The owner catches them staring, and waves at them in a hesitant sort of fashion. Wooyoung waves sheepishly back, and then San grabs his arm to drag him back along the street.

‘Okay, we won’t do that,’ Wooyoung says. ‘So what was it you realised this morning?’ He knocks San on the head, and San pushes him away.

‘Nothing,’ San says. ‘Just … you really don’t care about Yeosang and Seonghwa.’

‘What, that they were snuggling? Why would I care about that?’ Then Wooyoung sees San’s expression. ‘Hang on, is this the thing where you two talk when I’m not around?’

San shrugs. He won’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes.

‘What did Yeosang say?’

‘It’s not what he said,’ San says. He looks away, pissed off at something. ‘It’s what I … I might have said you shouldn’t go around making declarations that things are okay without talking to everyone.’

‘What?’

‘I mean just because _you_ don’t mind doesn’t mean everyone feels the same way.’

‘Are you saying you’d mind?’

‘Why is that such a surprise to everyone?’

Wooyoung narrows his eyes. ‘You don’t have some secret crush on Seonghwa that I should know about, do you?’

‘No!’

They’ve pretty much reached the end of town; there’s nowhere further to go. San stops to lean against a fence, and Wooyoung stops beside him.

‘Are you sure?’ Wooyoung asks.

‘Yes.’ San meets his eyes frankly. ‘I only love you.’

‘Well,’ Wooyoung says, and he loses track of what he was saying. ‘But that’s not, like, a requirement of our relationship.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No.’ Wooyoung says firmly. ‘I’ll still love you even if you do have a secret crush on Seonghwa you’re not telling me about.’

‘I do not.’

‘I’ll forgive you if you’re lying, too.’

‘I do not have a secret crush on Seonghwa.’

Wooyoung steps up close to him and he says, ‘Good.’ And he kisses him, for longer than he had intended to, and then he says, ‘Not good because you’re not allowed, good because I think this whole situation is complicated enough as it is.’

‘Yeah.’ San lets out a breath. ‘You’re right. I should apologise to Yeosang.’

‘Do,’ Wooyoung says. ‘But you’re right too. We need to talk about this stuff.’ He bites at his lip, and he says, ‘I’ll let Yeosang talk about it with Seonghwa though. Hah! Can you imagine? They’ll never say anything!’

San doesn’t laugh, but he doesn’t disagree either.

* * *

Most of the others are still out when they get back. Jongho is sitting in the courtyard, making small talk with someone’s grandmother. Yeosang is sitting with him, not making small talk, but listening dozily.

Wooyoung immediately inserts himself into the conversation, sitting behind Yeosang and leaning on him. San sits beside the two of them and feels awkward.

Should he apologise now? Yeosang might actually fall asleep, with Wooyoung there. San doesn’t want to just put it off.

So he tugs on Yeosang’s sleeve to get his attention, and Yeosang straightens up. He disentangles himself from Wooyoung, who slots himself into Yeosang’s seat when they leave.

‘Where are we going?’ Yeosang asks.

‘Somewhere people can’t listen,’ San says. If they go around the building, they can get to the back garden. San’s not sure they’re really meant to go out there, but Yeosang follows him anyway, until they find a spot to sit down beneath the trees where they’re not too obvious.

Yeosang is quiet, and San wonders if he’s expecting to be told off.

‘I don’t wanna give that grandma a heart attack,’ San says, by way of explanation.

A smile flickers over Yeosang’s face. ‘I think she’d die happy.’

‘Yeha, double charm-offensive,’ San says. The old lady is not what he means to talk about, though, and Yeosang knows that. ‘I wanted to apologise,’ San says.

‘Okay,’ Yeosang says. ‘What for?’

‘I don’t really care about you and Seonghwa. I mean, if you want to … you should go for it.’ He folds his knees up against his chest. ‘I just … I get jealous too.’ It seems like a small thing to admit, but his face is hot just saying it.

Yeosang inclines his head. ‘Honestly,’ he says, ‘Wooyoung shocked me too. When he said –’ Yeosang covers his mouth, and he looks at San with bright eyes. ‘He was a bit blasé?’

That startles San into a laugh.

‘Like … maybe he could stand to be a bit more jealous sometimes. That might be reassuring.’

‘I don’t know,’ San says. ‘I hate it. Being jealous, I mean. I don’t know why I can’t just relax about things. But I’m always like this.’

‘I get that,’ Yeosang says. He curls up too, looking out over the little garden. ‘I guess when Wooyoung wants attention, he just asks for it. I can’t do that.’

‘I don’t know,’ San says, ‘maybe if you needed as much attention as Wooyoung, you’d learn.’

That gets a laugh from Yeosang. It’s the sort of thing San usually wouldn’t say, but he doesn’t think Yeosang will take it the wrong way. Because Yeosang has wanted all of Wooyoung’s attention too.

‘I would die,’ Yeosang says. ‘I would die first.’

And maybe no-one needs to be everything to anyone.

* * *

Seonghwa had gone into town with Hongjoong that morning, too mortified to risk having to talk to Yeosang. It’s not even knowing that Wooyoung had spoken to Yeosang – he’s mortified at himself, for having that conversation and clinging to Yeosang despite it. He can hardly be mad at Wooyoung when he’s so mortified at himself.

When he gets back to the inn, Yeosang isn’t there. San isn’t either.

‘I think they went to the back garden,’ Wooyoung says innocently, when he sees Seonghwa looking. ‘Hyung, do you want to tell them we’re getting ready to go?’

Seonghwa gives him a quizzical look.

‘I’m busy,’ Wooyoung says. He doesn’t _look_ busy, chatting up old ladies, but Seonghwa makes his way to the garden anyway. He feels like maybe Wooyoung is playing a trick on him, but San and Yeosang are there, heads together in the dappled shade.

Seonghwa gives a little wave.

‘Hey, we were just talking about you,’ San says.

Yeosang shoots him a dirty look. 

And Seonghwa stops short, because he doesn’t want to know what they were talking about. He doesn’t know if he can look at Yeosang right now and not have his feelings show.

‘You don’t need to look like that, hyung; it wasn’t anything bad,’ San says. ‘Are we getting ready to go?’ He gets to his feet, and he helps Yeosang up. Yeosang looks wary, like a wild animal they’ve come across in the bush.

The two of them pick their way through the garden to Seonghwa, San whispering something to Yeosang, Yeosang hissing back. Seonghwa feels like he should turn away; he doesn’t want to overhear whatever they might be saying.

‘I’ll go ahead,’ San says, when he gets to Seonghwa. ‘Yeosang wants to talk to you.’ He claps Seonghwa on the shoulder, and then he _runs away_.

Yeosang looks outraged until he sees Seonghwa looking at him, and then he controls his face rapidly. It’s kind of funny.

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Seonghwa says. ‘I’ll just assume San was being unnecessary.’ He turns to go, but Yeosang doesn’t move.

‘Um,’ Yeosang says, ‘we had to talk about some stuff.’ 

Seonghwa looks back at him. Yeosang comes closer then, until they’re standing together, and he looks up to meet Seonghwa’s eyes, with some reticence.

‘I know this whole thing is really weird,’ he says.

Seonghwa nods.

‘I don’t know how to say this.’

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Seonghwa says. He doesn’t need to be turned down officially; he doesn’t want to seem that sad.

Yeosang reaches out, and he takes Seonghwa’s hand. He takes both Seonghwa’s hands.

‘Would you mind?’ Yeosang says. ‘Even if we’re not … exclusive …’ He cringes then, and squeezes his eyes shut.

Seongha feels disoriented. Like he recognises the words Yeosang is saying, but he can’t make sense of them. ‘Mind what?’

‘You know,’ Yeosang says.

Seonghwa is pretty sure he doesn’t.

‘Wooyoung said he doesn’t mind,’ Yeosang says. He looks down, his eyes very wide. ‘But I guess you might. I don’t even know if I can say this.’ He keeps holding on to Seonghwa’s hands, clutching at them, and he knocks his head against Seonghwa’s chest.

Seonghwa pulls his hands away from Yeosang’s, gently. Then he puts his arms around him, and Yeosang makes a small noise, like he’s surprised.

He hugs Seonghwa back.

Seonghwa thinks – if he’s even understanding Yeosang correctly – that maybe he _should_ mind. The normal thing would be to mind, wouldn’t it? But he likes Yeosang so much. In the life where he never had a chance and the one in which maybe he did too.

‘Does this mean we can try?’ Yeosang asks. He sounds fresh and bruisable, like a flower.

‘We can try,’ Seonghwa says, who feels just the same.

Yeosang laughs then, a small delighted sound. ‘I’m glad,’ he says.

If he were someone else, Seonghwa thinks, he would do more than just hold Yeosang right now. But holding Yeosang feels like the only thing that’s keeping him together.

Yeosang moves his hand to brush Seonghwa’s neck.

‘We should probably go back now though,’ he says.

‘Probably,’ Seonghwa answers. He remembers, suddenly, that it was Wooyoung who had sent him out here, and that San will have arrived back along. The thought of that is enough cold water that Seonghwa lets go of Yeosang.

Yeosang looks back toward the building, and then he blushes. Because if anyone inside looked out, they would see them here. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes Seonghwa’s hand in his, and he leads him back around the building. To where the others are waiting.

* * *

‘Don’t say anything,’ Seonghwa says. Wooyoung has come into step beside him, on their walk to the next town.

‘What do you think I’m gonna say?’ Wooyoung asks. He sounds offended, but it’s a pretense – he looks pleased enough.

‘I don’t know,’ Seonghwa says, ‘I just know I don’t want to hear it.’

Wooyoung says, slyly, ‘You’re talking to me again, though.’

Seonghwa sighs. ‘I can stop.’

‘Please don’t,’ Wooyoung says, and he takes Seonghwa by the arm. ‘That was awful. I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.’

And Seonghwa would like to argue, except that Wooyoung is right.

‘It worked out though,’ Wooyoung says.

‘We don’t even know that yet.’

Wooyoung nudges him with his elbow, an admonishment. ‘It will work out. Some people ended up with double children. If you think about it that way, we’re really lucky.’

Seonghwa’s not sure that argument holds, and Wooyoung gives him a look like he knows Seonghwa wants to disagree.

‘I’m really lucky,’ Wooyoung says. ‘Are you gonna say you don’t feel the same way right now?’

Seonghwa isn’t going to say that.

He doesn’t know what will happen next. He doesn’t know how things will turn out. But right now, they’re all still together; some of them are more together than others; and he can’t really say he wishes things had turned out differently.

‘Fine,’ Seonghwa says. ‘We’re all pretty lucky.’

And Wooyoung’s smile is so brilliant, he can’t help but smile back.


End file.
